


And It Feels Like Another Tragedy

by wasp



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 17:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasp/pseuds/wasp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s so tired and his heart’s taken so many shots it feels like it’s barely held together in his hands, slipping away between his fingers and he <i>won’t.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	And It Feels Like Another Tragedy

The blond boy with the loud laugh and glinting braces falls into the seat next to him. He’s still laughing at whatever Harry’s said to him, holding his pint out in front of him so he won’t spill it all over himself. He puts it down on the table next to Zayn’s drink and turns his head to grin at him. He’s got blue eyes and Zayn thinks that would be new.

He thinks no before he thinks that though and again when Niall opens his mouth and says in a lilting Irish accent, “Hiya mate.”

He’s got flushed cheeks and an easy smile and Zayn needs him to walk away before he can introduce himself.

He’s so tired and his heart’s taken so many shots it feels like it’s barely held together in his hands, slipping away between his fingers and he won’t.

~

Zayn loves Liam like he’d never loved anyone before.

It’s not hard to fall in love with him. It’s the first day of college and he’s carrying a thousand books but he doesn’t have a pen. Zayn pulls out the only thing he’s brought to school and hands it to him and all it takes is for Liam to smile at him, relieved and grateful, for Zayn to think fuck and spiral.

It’s frightening, his love for Liam, and it’s all-consuming and if left alone turns more and more destructive. Because the thing is, Liam’s in love with someone else. The thing is, he’s always in love with someone else and Zayn doesn’t want to think it’s because he’s incapable of loving someone like him. He looks at Danielle in a way that makes Zayn crave. The reality is there’s no chance of anything happening even if Danielle isn’t in the picture and no amount of wishful thinking on Zayn’s part is going to make it so.

He can’t help who he loves. Zayn can’t help it either.

He’s never wanted someone as much as he wants Liam. But he can’t have him so he fucks strangers against the thin walls of bathroom cubicles and drops to his knees without a second thought but doesn’t follow anyone into a bedroom. It’s enough for him.

Zayn kisses Liam just once. They’re both drunk on terrible beer, tucked against each other on their first couch in their first flat for their first year of university. Liam moved in with Zayn instead of Danielle and he tells himself it means something, it has to mean something, and reaches over and kisses him quiet. He kisses him softly, barely a brush of his lips against the plush swell of Liam’s bottom lip and he regrets it almost immediately. He regrets throwing away his first and last chance to kiss Liam.

Zayn can predict everything that’s going to happen five seconds before it actually happens. He makes his eyes hooded and grins sloppily, acts drunker than he is to mask the way it feels like his skin’s suddenly been stripped raw.

“Zayn, I’m not,” Liam starts, stuttering to a stop as he pulls further away. His eyes are huge and he stares at Zayn bewildered and Zayn can check that off the list too, the stupid bastard didn’t know – he probably still doesn’t know.

Zayn thinks no, of course you’re not and closes his eyes, falling against the arm of the couch on his side. He pretends he doesn’t remember anything the next day and Liam doesn’t bring it up.

It’s somehow worse, Liam still not understanding, because Zayn can’t pretend he’s doing it on pupose to hurt him.

~

Liam moves out of their flat after another year to move in with Danielle. Zayn helps him pack his stuff and drives him over there where Danielle greets him with a kiss. He hates their flat; they’re the kind of couple who has pictures of themselves everywhere; kissing under the Eiffel tower, Danielle with Liam’s baby cousin, Danielle’s dad laughing with his hand on Liam’s shoulder. It’s clean and orderly and nothing like how Zayn and Liam’s flat used to be.

Zayn refuses the bottle of beer and drives himself to a place he doesn’t want to call home anymore. It’s empty and cold and silent and so Zayn draws a hot bath and scrubs his skin raw.

Liam’s happy, he tells himself, that’s all that should matter.

But Zayn’s too selfish not to want Liam to be happy with him instead.

~

Another two years and Zayn spends his time chasing after similar brown eyes that can turn cruel instead of kind until Danielle breaks up with Liam. He doesn’t understand why anyone would let go of something Zayn’s been chasing after for so long.

Zayn can’t help think yes.

He forgets Liam didn’t want him before. Zayn can have Liam like this, fragile and broken, held together in his hands. He soon realizes it’s not like anything he’s ever wanted from Liam.

Not when Zayn’s desperately holding onto Liam in his bed, struggling to keep him from thrashing and hurting himself. Not when he’s sobbing into the crook of Zayn’s neck, fingers gripping at Zayn tight enough for it to ache for days, his whole body shaking with grief. And not when he mouths ‘I was going to marry her’ into his skin and sears it in place with tears. It’s not the way he wanted to end up in his bed or the way for him to leave bruises or to finally have his mouth against his skin.

He’ll take it though - he’ll take anything at this point.

~

Liam heals bit by bit and Zayn’s there the whole time for when he needs him. Zayn wasn’t afraid he would end up jaded or bitter, it’s Liam after all. There’s still some selfish part of him that thinks maybe Liam will want him now. Just because Liam’s only had girlfriends – it doesn’t have to mean anything –

He’s too busy trying to get Liam to notice him to catch how Louis’ notices Liam.

And that’s enough to destroy Zayn.

It wasn’t the fact Liam wasn’t into boys that prevented them from being together – it’s just Zayn. Liam doesn’t love Zayn the way he needs him to. Zayn wants to shout ‘you said you weren’t’ but he knows he has no right, Liam doesn’t owe him anything. He allows himself to be irrational and hurt for a while though because Liam’s not supposed to fall in love with pretty boys and their bright smiles and rolled up trousers. He’s not supposed to be swept away by loud charm and pointy canines and golden tanned skin – he’s not supposed to fall in love with another boy that’s not Zayn.

And when Liam falls, he falls hard.

~

Liam isn’t scared, just all wide-eyed wonder and eager to learn. He tries to tell Zayn about it, how his heart feels tender and swollen all the time to the point it hurts but just being around Louis makes everything so unbearably good and Zayn wants to laugh at the irony until his throat bleeds. He can’t stand it, they’re so good together and he desperately thinks they aren’t supposed to, they won’t last, but he feels sick to his stomach and knows it’s not true.

Liam isn’t scared to cup Louis’ jaw in the crowded pub, his eyes on no-one but Louis. His eyebrows are drawn up and Zayn can’t hear what they’re saying from the bar but he’s nodding exaggeratedly, humouring whatever bullshit Louis’ spewing. Louis can’t keep his serious face on and breaks, starting to giggle so his shoulders hitch up and shake. Liam only leans in to kiss the high point of his cheek where it crinkles with his smile. Louis bats at him with no real intent, only pulling back to push himself up on his toes and kiss him properly and Liam doesn’t think twice about kissing him back.

Liam isn’t scared to love Louis with all he has and Zayn always been so terrified.

~

He introduces himself as Niall and when he shakes Zayn’s hand his palms are burning hot. He reminds him of Perrie – no, he reminds him of quick flashes of her.

He’s loud and unapologetic and leans back against the seat as if he feels at home.

Zayn remembers how blue Perrie’s had been too and the delicate bones of her hand which he’d grasped like a lifeline. He was fifteen when he kissed Danny, drunk and driven by need. The fucking terror didn’t melt away completely but it shrunk itself to a cold knot in his stomach when he asked Perrie to be his girlfriend the next day, as if he could take it back somehow and prove he was something he wasn’t.

Zayn made sure he held her hand in the hallways and carried her books to her classes and timed their kisses to make sure Danny saw. To prove it was nothing, to prove he liked girls – and it worked, Danny clapped him on the back and asked for non-existing details about how far he’d manage to get with her.

Perrie never said a word to Zayn about himself or to anyone else.

Zayn walked in on Perrie with her hand under Jade’s bra one too many times to realize what Perrie was doing for him. Then he couldn’t have her do it anymore because Perrie wasn’t hiding herself, she was only helping Zayn hide from everyone else and Zayn wished he could love her like he so desperately wanted to.

~

Then there was Harry with his lovely green eyes and pale pale thighs and pretty little dimples who giggled into the crook of Zayn’s neck and made desperate noises at the back of his throat against brick walls and cab seats. He wore ridiculous jumpers and constantly swept his curls out of his eyes and fucked like his life depended on it.

He thought for a while they could be something. He could be happy with someone like Harry – he could fall in love with him if he tried hard enough and they’d go the whole nine yards and move in together and spend quiet breakfasts smiling at each other and fall into each other’s lives as naturally as if they were born to be.

But then Nick happens and Harry’s eyes lit up like they’d never done with Zayn and he never stood a chance, Harry was already in love with him before Zayn could wonder if he wanted to do anything about it in the first place.

Zayn’s not surprised. He doesn’t ask him to stay, just kisses him goodbye with a laugh as if that’s all it was anyway, a bit of fun. Just a body to warm his bed, just a placeholder – that’s what Zayn told everyone from the start anyway. Harry can have early morning cuddles and quiet breakfasts with Nick instead.

When Harry leaves, Zayn strips down until he’s naked and crawls into his empty bed. He pulls the covers over his head and ignores how his body won’t warm the bed and refuses to move for three days. Liam finally comes by his flat and he’s the last person Zayn wants to see. He doesn’t move to open the door but he has his own fucking key and lets himself in anyway.

He walks around the place like he still lives there, opening all the curtains and complaining about the take-away cartons from that place Harry had liked. Zayn can hear him put the kettle on from his bedroom and doesn’t think how fucking hilarious it is; that he can’t stand him here when he’s spent all that time wishing he was.

Liam finally digs him out of his cocoon of blankets. He takes one look at Zayn’s stubble, his reddened nose and swollen eyes and says, “You must’ve caught the flu from Lou the other week. Why didn’t you call me?”

Zayn rolls away from him onto his stomach, facing the other way.

“He kept insisting he was fine until he almost collapsed and I had to physically drag him to the hospital and then he got mad at me for missing the deadline for my assignment,” Liam continues on, oblivious to how his happy little life with Louis’ the last thing Zayn wants to hear right now.

Zayn blocks him out until he says, “You always call me when you’re sick,” like he’s offended by the fact Zayn didn’t this time. He tone turns gleeful when he asks, “Has Harry replaced me as the nurse?”

Zayn tiredly thinks no, no-one could replace you but instead says, “Told you Harry and I aren’t like that.”

“Like what?” Liam asks innocently enough, walking around the room to start cleaning up after him.

“Like you and Lou,” Zayn finally says, turning his head deeper into the pillow so his words become muffled. “We’re not fucking anymore either,” he says bluntly and feels Liam still behind him.

“Oh,” Liam says and it sounds like he’s busy trying to figure something out. “Oh,” Liam says in a way that has Zayn’s heart sinking further down.

Zayn knows Liam wants him to be happy with someone like he is with Louis. He wants Zayn to stop fucking around and stop destroying every relationship before it has a chance to start and he knows he thought Harry would be the one. It’s stopped being funny a long time ago, how sometimes it feels like Liam doesn’t know Zayn at all.

“I’m sorry, Zayn. Is that why you didn’t call me?” he asks, his voice earnest and apologetic.

Zayn wants to shout at Liam to shut the fuck up because it’s all getting to be a bit too much and he can’t breathe and he might actually start crying and he feels pathetic enough without adding that to the list.

“We weren’t like that but he,” Zayn doesn’t want to say ‘he left’ because that’s precisely what he did. He’s proud of how steady his voice sounds when he forces himself to say, “I got bored. He’s a boring fuck.”

“Alright,” Liam says and doesn’t push it. The mattress sinks down by his feet and Zayn knows if Liam touches him now he’s going to be a fucking wreck.

He kicks at Liam’s knee with his feet and says, “Can you bring me some tea, please?” knowing Liam won’t refuse.

“Yeah, of course,” Liam says and curls his hand around Zayn’s ankle, stroking his thumb gently against the bone and down before letting go.

Zayn waits until he hears him leave the bedroom to push his face against the pillow, clutching at his biceps underneath it with his fingernails until his tears just bleed into the pillow quietly for a moment and he can pull himself back together.

~

The concrete is damp and cold under his bare feet and Zayn can almost taste it when he breathes deep through his nose, the wet air seeping into his pore. The smell of dusk is somewhat comforting but so is the darkened grey spots on the balcony, the only thing left of the earlier thunder storm they fucked through.

Zayn takes a long drag from his cigarette, his eyes closing as it fills up his lungs. He lets the air out in a thin stream, slitting his eyes open to watch. His shoves his hand into the pocket of his borrowed track pants, keeping his arms close to ward off the chill spreading goosebumps over his fevered skin. He shivers against it and licks his lips, the wind cooling the bitten skin and breathes in again slowly.

The glass door separating the balcony from the flat slides open behind him and in Zayn’s peripheral vision he sees flash of something like sunlight, shining bright against the unending monotony of the sky and grey buildings are him. Zayn turns his head to see properly, the effect fading as his eyes adjust to the brightness of Niall’s hair. It doesn’t fade completely though as Niall smiles at him, shuffling forward sleepily in his boxers. He wrinkles his nose at the cigarette but wraps his arms around Zayn’s waist from behind anyway.

“S’cold out,” Niall says, his mouth brushing against the nape of his neck.

He presses himself properly alongside Zayn’s back, moulding them together to share the body heat. He hooks his chin over Zayn’s shoulder and Zayn tilts his head backwards, nudging his nose against his cheek.

“Come back to bed,” Niall says and presses a kiss into the sharp bone of his shoulder.

Zayn stubs his cigarette out against the side of the balcony and throws it over the edge. He lets Niall take his hand and lead him back into his bedroom and he thinks okay and he thinks please be careful.


End file.
